To Live Or To Survive
by Lost-In-Ages
Summary: Harry always knew he was different, his Aunt and Uncle made THAT clear. But, that doesn't explain why all of a sudden, he's getting these weird looks from girls, or why his clothes, which were previously much too large for him, don't fit. He's supposed to be fourteen, but he looks much older. Since when is he blonde, and what's this about a tournament? Super!Godlike!Harry
1. Prologue

**Alright, so my friend had this idea, and asked me to post it for her. She's given me leeway to write it, but with her guidelines of course. EXTREME AU! Contains Super!Godlike!Harry, insane amounts of heritage and gold simply because everyone else does it and it looks fun.**

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Time doesn't matter much to a ghost. Days seem like minutes, months hours, and centuries days. Godric Gryffindor knew he'd been dead for thousands of years, but it still only felt as if he'd been wandering for a few weeks. The silvery pale specter sighed in as he walked across the overgrown ground towards the crumbled ruin of what had been Gryffindor Castle. All that was left of the once mighty and grand structure was a pile of heavily weathered stones, wrapped in the vines that had thrived since Godric's death.

The island that he had built his home on was off the coast of Scotland, and had remained hidden due to the extraordinary strength of ancient wards that he himself had cast. Godric carefully navigated around the fallen bricks and trekked towards the lake that, during his living days, had always soothed him. The sun was rising, its golden rays of light inviting numerous birds to begin to sing. A smile stretched on the ghost's face as he reached the gentle slope downwards that led to the lake. He enjoyed the patterns sunlight made on the clear water. It glittered to the bottom, shining on the scales of many fish that too called this place home.

He sat at the edge of the water, content to be in his world of untamed nature. Godric closed his eyes, and fell into the realm of Morpheus. He was awoken by a sharp pulling sensation in his gut, something that he had not felt in many millennia. It was the raw shift of magic in the world. Some extremely magically gifted child had just been born. He quickly decided to go to the source of the disturbance, sure it would prove to be an interesting visit. He honed in on the location, and ghost-apparated there, silently. He was surprised to be in a room full of crying, flailing newborns. The sudden change in sound aggravated his ears, and he was almost tempted to leave. That is, until his keen eyes saw something quite out of place.

In the farthest corner of the child-filled room, there was another ghost, fawning over the only silent infant. One that was eerily familiar.

"Rowena? What are you doing here?" Godric asked in his deep, rumbling voice, as he made his way towards her turned back.

"Visiting my grandson, _our _grandson, Godric," Rowena Ravenclaw replied softly, but clearly. Her eyes never leaving the boy in front of her. He was bald, with wide and innocent emerald green eyes. He was sucking on his fist, seemingly content. His stare was unfocused, but she wasn't surprised. They were invisible ghosts, of course he didn't see them.

"Are you my little Merlin, dear child, hmm?" Gryffindor cooed, entranced by the being in front of him. The magical aura was pulsating, powerful, "You're special, little one."

Rowena smirked at his face, but then frowned slightly, "There's something off about him..."

The ghostly man was about to glare at her, for insulting their grandchild, when the baby began to whine softly. It wasn't loud, but it had every living nurse rush over to him, despite the other, positively screaming babies they were tending to. Both ghosts shuddered as three nurses, who were oblivious to their presence and conversation, went through their spectral bodies. The child quieted as he was changed, and Godric had a small sense of foreboding grow on him when they fought to hold him. He and Rowena watched silently as the baby was put back into his clear plastic tub, before again approaching him.

Gryffindor was intently studying the boy, whose eyes were in the ghost's general direction. He wasn't sure what he was waiting for, but knew there _was _something different about the child. Suddenly, the green eyes looked directly at Godric, and flashed into something that had him sink to the floor.

"Godric?" Ravenclaw asked, slightly panicked at why the steady man fell, "What's wrong?"

"His eyes," Godric gasped.

Rowena hurriedly looked to them and sharply inhaled through her nose. Her grandson was looking absently ahead, his eyes shifting to a color she hadn't seen since she herself was alive. Before they flashed back to emerald, Rowena Ravenclaw had viewed the icy white-blue irises that belonged to her co-founder, friend, and ex-lover, Godric Gryffindor, when he was still a living being.

"Not possible, we drained her," she muttered tightly.

"With magic anything is possible. It seems I know what plagues young," Godric squinted at the name tag on the bin, "Harry Potter. And I am sad to say that I caused it."

"You mustn't blame yourself! It's not our fault!"

"I should have been more thorough with the spell, I should have made sure there was no chance at this happening!"

"Maybe the world is ready, maybe it won't be so bad," Ravenclaw tried to reason.

"He's only the second to ever exist, me being the first. I'm so sorry my child, I've doomed you to a life without love!"

"If he finds someone understanding, he will have love."

"Understanding," Godric chuckled darkly, "No one understands. His burden will be too much for anyone to want to share. And then he'll find her, the woman who makes his head spin round, and she'll leave him to rot, she won't _understand _him. He'll end up just like me."

"I never meant for what happened to happ-"

He interrupted her, "Without her he'll go insane, and eventually be so starved of love that he'll do anything to escape the pain. _Anything. _I would know. As a male Veela, he'll have obligations, not even the greatest woman can take that fact, as _you _should know."

"How many times must I tell you I'm sorry?"

"As many times as it takes to get you to feel it," Godric retorted, "Poor Harry, I can only hope that the Veela they choose for you is a decent character. I am sorry my son, I will help you, if I can."

With that, Gryffindor kissed the boy's forehead, smiling ruefully at the small giggle that erupted from him. In a moment, he was back on his island, the very place where he had taken his life.


	2. Chapter I

**Woah, the reception for last chapter was amazing! Thank you to everyone who followed, read, favorited, and reviewed! I haven't read the books in like a year, and the GoF movie gets on my nerves, so if I get something wrong please comment and I'll correct it.**

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"I can't stop you from doing this, old fool. But I can and will help my last living descendant," Godric muttered angrily, his translucent form watching Albus Dumbledore, current headmaster of Hogwarts, place Harry on a doorstep. The doorstep in question belonged to Petunia Dursley, Harry's aunt, who hated magic so much it stunned the dead founder.

The ghost was appalled that this was the headmaster's grand plan. Leave a powerful wizarding baby who had taken down a dark lord, and lost his parents during the process, in the care of a family that was made up more of zoo animals than of people? Godric knew that wasn't what James would have wanted, and was sure that in the man's will it stated so. Gryffindor had watched the last of the Potter clan since that day at the hospital, and had seen firsthand the love that had showered young Harry; there was absolutely no possibility that James or Lily would have their son raised by those muggles. But alas, Dumbledore had withheld the wills, and now Harry had no choice.

Godric was pained to know that this was the last of his grandchildren, or Rowena's, or Salazar's, or Helga's. The tired child, who would most likely grow into a life of awful servitude and malnourishment, was alone in the world. No one would be there to tell him stories of his heritage, of magic or of his family. No, he would live in a world of darkness, only knowing what was allowed to him. Godric knew this was precisely Dumbledore's plan, and it infuriated him. He also knew something would have to be done about Harry's particular, _hidden_, inheritance. If Harry's inner Veela nature were to be revealed at such a young age (most Veela reach puberty at seven), there would be dire consequences. The boy would have to reproduce almost immediately, and that, to Godric, seemed far too much pressure and responsibility on a child.

Since Gryffindor's own parents had kept his natures hidden, he hadn't had to go through such things. They had halted his inner blood until he was already well past normal wizarding puberty. Only very few knew of him being a Veela (Rowena, Helga, and Salazar), and since he was too in love with the former, he didn't even consider unveiling his heritage and fulfilling the destiny of the prophesized male Veela. To the world he died a wizard, not a Veela. Godric watched as Dumbledore apparated away, inwardly seething. He stomped over to the stoop, the plants around him freezing as he passed. As he reached the small, shivering bundle that was his grandson, his anger dissipated slightly. Harry would grow up an unloved orphan, and there was no way for Godric to change that.

"Are you as upset at this as I am, Godric?" the low, quiet voice of Salazar Slytherin asked, his silver body shimmering under the porch light. The handsome, aristocratic features on his spectral face were pulled into a deep, infuriated scowl. Gryffindor did a double take, he hadn't seen Salazar in millennia. Of course he knew that the parseltongue was also the ancestor of Harry, all the founders were, but Godric assumed that he favored Voldemort over the small Potter. Godric regained his bearings quickly.

"I'm outraged! How dare Dumbledore leave such an important, innocent boy at the hands of these muggles?! I've watched them, Salazar, they'll make him their slave, if they don't kill him first!" the dead male Veela fumed, looking back and forth from Harry to his fellow ghost, who was equally as angry.

"Boys, I don't like this anymore than you do, but we have to be rational about this. We have to do what's best for Harry," Rowena Ravenclaw's calm voice reasoned as she suddenly appeared next to them, along with a shorter, plumper ghost.

"I agree, Rowena. It's certainly an awful situation, but we have to figure out a way to help him," Helga Hufflepuff spoke, as she gently rubbed Salazar's back. The two had secretly eloped long ago. Her hardworking loyalty had evened out his cunning ambition, and the two had fallen in love after she was divorced. Slytherin had even allowed his child to be claimed by her ex-husband, as he didn't want his slandered name to harm either her or their daughter. It was one of his noblest moments.

"I don't know how or why the Veela genes decided to skip so many generations, but they did, and now they are within him. I have to buy him time, at seven he won't even know what magic is, much less why there's a horde of beautiful, older woman who want to shag him. Sweet Hogwarts, he won't know what shagging is!" Godric exclaimed. He was on the ground, his corporeal fingers softly stroking Harry's forehead.

"How much can you give him?" Slytherin asked.

Godric grimaced, "I have to rely on my core magic alone, which is obviously diminished as I'm _dead_, I won't be able to get him 25 years, like my parents did for me. Maybe emancipation age, I can't be sure. I'll give him as much as I can, but I know the bind will begin to weaken as soon as he's near large stores of ambient magic."

"Hogwarts," Helga stated, knowing that the school's power was what Godric was referring to.

"Godric, if you do this, you'll be severely exhausted, you won't be able to take form for a decade, at least!" Rowena worriedly warned him, "That much use of magic without a wand, as a ghost, could yield potentially disastrous results. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"If it means saving him, than I'll do anything. He's all we have left. I won't allow him to suffer for my mistakes. By my calculations, I can get him thirteen years. It's actually fifteen but, due to Hogwarts, I'm sure it'll expose itself during the beginning of his fourth year, maybe late third," Godric said, looking at all three of his fellow founders. The look that Rowena had classified as his "determined face" was set in stone on his ethereal features. She knew that once he made that look, there was no changing his mind.

"We don't hold you to blame Godric," Salazar laid a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Never did, never will. Without you, we wouldn't have this little angel in the first place," Helga smiled at him, before gently turning to coo at the boy. He stirred, and as if he could see them, smiled and giggled a baby's laugh.

Gryffindor beamed with pride, and nodded at the others. He smoothed out the hair on his grandson's head before kissing Harry's nose. Putting his hands on the boy's temples, he called upon his inner magic, and focused it on Harry. Willing himself not to scream at the pain, he felt himself grow weaker and weaker every second that passed. He felt the inner Veela in the boy shrink until it was miniscule, and then it all went black.

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**Line isn't working... Grr...**

**Yet another filler chapter, I know, I'm evil. Next one's a serious time skip, right to that famous day at the zoo. It's where we begin to give Harry a little more fun... It'll be longer, I'm hoping at least 1.5k words.**

**Anyways, thanks to everyone who read, followed, favorited, or reviewed!**


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